


Break Me

by starofinsomnia (EverettV)



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Alternate Universe, Blood, M/M, Sad, Sad Ending, Stabbing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-30
Updated: 2018-01-30
Packaged: 2019-03-11 14:52:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 541
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13526595
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EverettV/pseuds/starofinsomnia
Summary: What if Noctis actually did care that Prompto is an MT? What would he do then?





	Break Me

**Author's Note:**

> I'm really bad at tagging and summaries but if blood and death make you uncomfortable, then you probably should steer clear of this fic. Not beta read

“So, MTs…They’ve got those codeprints… Just like I do.” Prompto’s voice wavers slightly, terror filling him. He only just found out himself what he is, why he has the codeprint at all, and now he has to tell his best friends. He rubs his arm softly. 

“What are you getting at?” Noctis asks, eyebrow raised. He puts his hands on his hips and watches Prompto. 

“So… As it turns out, I’m one of them,” He whispers, clenching his fists. Tears well into his eyes. Noctis freezes up slightly, turning to the other two. They just stare back at him in the same shock. 

“You’re… an MT? All of this time, you were one of them?” Noctis’ voice comes out harsh. “You’re probably the reason they found us! They kept finding us! I thought we were just unlucky, but it was you the whole time.” Noctis grips his sword tightly in his hand, grabbing Prompto by the shoulder and slamming him into the wall. “How dare you… You claim to care about me, about us, but you constantly put us into danger.” 

Prompto’s eyes go wide, breath knocked out of him. He doesn’t fight Noctis’ grip on him. This was one of the outcomes that he saw coming, and he accepts it. He knows he did cause the group a lot of danger. Prompto sniffles, then closes his eyes tightly. “I’m sorry, Noct. I really do care about you guys. I love you…” He whispers. 

“I loved you,” Noctis whispers, just before stabbing Prompto in the stomach. He holds him against the wall, then pulls his sword back out and steps away. 

Prompto stumbles, forward, hands on his stomach. It doesn't seem real. He feels like he's dreaming, he must be. The blood is too wet, coming too fast as he falls to his knees. Everything is happening slowly. Noctis' boots are still in front of him, so he focuses on that. It's easier. He falls forward, laying on the cold metal of the compound. 

His blood drips through the grating below him. He watches it fall into eternity, coughing up blood. “I love you,” he whispers, closing his eyes once more. Gladio stares at Noctis in shock, never believing once that the Prince… the King would care about this. He steps forward, pushing Noctis out of the way and grabbing Prompto’s hand tightly. 

“You made the wrong decision, Noctis.” He growls, pulling out a potion. He freezes when Noctis’ sword is put to his neck. “You don’t get to kill Prompto for who he is! He can’t help this! And he didn’t know until recently either. Do you really believe that he would have intentionally hurt any of us?” 

“It doesn’t matter what he intentionally did, the fact of the matter is he did it.” Noctis’ voice holds a sense of finality to it. Gladio glares up at him, then turns to Prompto. He rolls the blond onto his back and hugs him close. 

“He doesn’t deserve to die alone. He doesn’t deserve to die feeling hated.” Gladio strokes sticky blond strands out of Prompto’s face and cups his cheek. He wants more than anything to fix this. “You’re going to be a horrible king, Noctis.” 

“Then so be it.”


End file.
